Malag-Tog waited in the tent. Panic was starting to hit him as he had nearly used up all the magic that was inside his heart. He had enough left for one minor spell, then he guessed he would have to rest a day or two to rejuvenate his powers. Then and only then would magic fill up his heart once more.
One of the warriors still lived and soon he would come into the tent to try and slay him. Not one of his servants had survived the attack and now it was up to him to kill this last man.
He was beginning to regret his reason for coming to this island. He had summoned his familiar from here and this had improved his powers greatly but now the price of keeping his pet alive could mean his very own death.
He had thought of opening the stone box and commanding his pet to attack the warrior, but his powers were weak and as with all familiars it would be able to sense that his control over it was not strong enough to hold it in bondage and fly off leaving him back were he started. Plus he would die if the warrior slayed it, which was most likely as to control it, he had to make sure it did not over feed on hearts and grow enough in power to overwhelm him.
He took from his pocket a handful of red chilies, then he mouthed the spell and stuffed all the chilies into his mouth. His mouth began to feel on fire as the burning hot chilies began to take effect. This triggered the spell and the burning sensation spread throughout his body as his blood reached boiling point. At this point the warrior who had thrown the knife at him stepped through the partition door and looked towards him. This was it! Death or glory!